The tall, thin boy hugged his knees to his chest as he cried. The young boy tried to remember what had happened before he ended up here, terrified. Other memories surfaced as he thought, but no matter what he came up with it didn't make sense. His mind was jumbled and it made his head throb to think so hard. He quickly quieted his cries for they would never aid him. The small, empty, cold room became deathly silent. A terrifying combination with the pitch black. 

A searing hand touched his back and a small voice whispered, "Go,"

Gasping, goosebumps ran rampant where the hand touched. The boy ran for the door. Once he found it he started yanking on the door handle, almost thinking it inextricable. Slowly it gave way. Creaking with opposition. As soon as it was open enough he squeezed through the small opening, gaining multiple bruises. Fumbling around in the darkness he found stairs. He frantically ran up, almost falling down multiple times. He ran through the run down house frantically searching for the outside door. This house... It felt horrible, as each second passed his body grew heavy and tired. 

He creeped through the rundown hunting cabin. Partially lit by the faint light of the moon, shadows loomed at every possible corner. Feeling a shock go through his body, the boy screamed as his foot rammed down onto a nail. Dropping down the boy whimpered at the rusted nail deep in his foot. Crying softly he called out for someone, anyone. No answer came to him. Questions ran through his head but he was quickly reminded of the nail currently lodged in his foot through the stab of pain that ran up his leg that made him forget to breathe for a moment. Touching the nail gently he felt the wetness on it. His mind panicked. Hearing his heartbeat in his ears he started to hyperventilate. His vision blurred as tears continued to leak out of his eyes. Working up the little courage he could grab ahold of he readied himself. Letting out a screech he ripped the nail out of his foot. Hunching over in pain the boy gasped heavily. Tears running down his face he carefully stood up, keeping off the foot as much as possible. He ignored the feeling of blood dripping from the gaping wound as best as he could. His breathing was uncontrollable knowing that there was blood on him.

Soft sobs still escaped his closed lips as he searched the house; he was now mindful of the debris covering the floor and had calmed down enough to control his breathing. He had found the outside door but had chosen not to go outside just yet. Screaming as he fell through the rotten floorboards each time. He had managed to find nothing useful in the disturbing cabin. He shivered as goosebumps crawled up his back. He had better get outside the house. He had to come back in for the night but it was also a good plan to get a better idea of where he was and if rescue was possible.

Walking outside he continued a few feet from the house. He stood still for a second breathing in the fresh air. It felt better out here, he was dreading going back inside. Only wearing shorts and a t-shirt he shivered though it was only a cool summer night. The cold bit at his bare skin. Hissing as he took a step he was painfully reminded of the hole in his foot. Stumbling over to the concrete slab that stuck out about a foot from the house he sat down with his legs out taking in his surroundings. As far as the eye could see it was a densely wooded area. 

Whoever had left him here surely intended for him to die. Tensing up, he glared hatefully towards the forest anticipating for something horrible to jump out at him. Recalling his most recent dreams he could vividly imagine a large black creature chasing after him, suffocating him in its darkness. Snapping out of his thoughts in the distance he could hear howling. 

Quickly he stood up, frightened by the sudden noise. Another howl sounded throughout the forest even closer than before making the boy quiver. He rushed inside the house catching what looked to be a young girl dressed in a blue dress, coated in blood standing in the spot he had recently vacated. Stopping in his steps he turned completely to face the spot, nothing was there anymore but he could feel her. Her core had been a small blue butterfly projecting her image. Shaking the thought from his head he marked it up to his imagination. Continuing back in the house he found it more sickening than before. He went back to the basement as that was the only place with an intact door. After he shut the door, pitch black covered the room. 

Squinting he wished his eyes would adjust faster as he climbed down the strangely intact stairs. Carefully balancing his supplies he shuffled down the stairs slowly. Stopping every step to look over the pile of things to check how close he was to the edge of the next step. What awaited him at the bottom was not what he had expected. He spotted it while on the last ten steps. A ghostly boy stood right in front of him, similar to the girl. His head was caved on the left side, blood sticking his dark hair to his forehead. Sucking in a sharp breath he went to back up. So much blood covered the small boy. The ghost’s neck has been slit leaving dark stains of blood on his clothing. He had experience with ghosts like these; they always followed him and chased him. He shook violently as his mind tried to connect the dots to his mother. Adamantly refusing to remember her he focused on the ghost once again. Having half a mind to ignore it and pretend he couldn't see the little boy. It suddenly approached him reaching out to touch his arm. 

He yelped as he slipped tumbling down the last few steps. Shouting as the ghost continued his advance he scrambled to right himself and run. Reeling back in horror, the ghostly form seemed to flicker and grow agitated just centimeters away from touching the boy then disappeared. Grabbing a hold of his shirt he took a few heavy breaths. He sighed as he picked himself up then leaning against the wall he paused. What had angered the ghost like that? The air had shifted once again and it felt ominous. 

As he laid there worry clouded his mind. Shuddering he thought of all the bugs that would get to him in his sleep and possibly other things. Shrieking, he kept his eyes open, not daring to close them. He watched as forms shifted and contorted into terrifying creatures. He knew it was his brain fooling him into thinking that they were there. Slowly he uncovered his face to find the two spirits in front of him. Both let off a faint glow. The two floated slightly above the concrete flooring and now able to see them clearer they looked like twins. Two identical faces with black hair framing both. Dark chocolate skin covered the two. He sucked in a breath. Blood covered both, soaking their clothing and sticking strands of hair on their foreheads. Fumbling he cried out as the bloodied boy reached out to him. He sobbed hysterically as both came closer. He got up pressing himself against the wall. Shaking with fear he made to run but the spirits cornered him. He couldn’t breathe, he was so cold, and it hurt so much to intake any breath. He closed his eyes wishing for death to take him as quickly as possible.

“Atticus,” The spirit whispered, touching his hand.

It wasn’t malicious, just misunderstood. He could feel the spirit’s anger and resentment but it wasn’t towards him. It never had been. The spirit wanted to be understood to be loved and cared for. It wanted him to be there for it. The cold ceased and he could finally breathe with no difficulty.

“What?” he paused, “I know who that is! I know!” He was filled with uncontrollable excitement, “That… That's me, isn't it?” The boy asked,

The spirit nodded as Atticus’ tears stopped. The light hand touching him was warm and comforting. Then they both disappeared. Feeling heavy Atticus collapsed. Tired eyes blinked slowly as he prayed for them to come back. Succumbing to sleep, no nightmares plagued him. Only small lonely memories that had no place here.